In order to celebrate HETALIA'S anime adaptation. AXIS POWERS HETALIA KINK MEME
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
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Okay, let's make history and be more epic than these people, shall we?
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He was naked on the bed, tied in such a position that he had to remain kneeling. If he attempted to stand or even lay down, his shoulders screamed in protest from being bent in the wrong direction.
He fisted his hands that were tied quite firmly to the headboard, making sure that he didn’t lose the circulation to his fingertips. The fingertips that he was most definitely going to need to pull some triggers once he got out of this situation.
Al felt the bed behind him sink, and he turned his head, a snarl and a very colourful curse against his kidnapper’s parentage already on his lips when his head was snapped back around by a blow to his cheek that made him see stars.
Obviously, he was meant to keep face front, Al reasoned as he breathed through the pain in his jaw, his hands clenching and unclenching above his head. Too bad he wasn’t a quick learner.
“Hey, you bastard, why don’t you fight me like a real ma- ngh!” Another blow landed on top of the first, radiating pain all the way up to his eyeballs. Al's jaw throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. He ran his tongue over his teeth to make sure none of them were loose.
"You'll be sorry for this," Al warned, although this time he didn't turn around to say it. "Once this is over, I'm going to crush - ah!"
The cry burst out of Al's mouth in surprise as he felt a hand come down onto his bare ass, stinging like the very devil. At first, Al was actually too shocked to say anything. He hadn't been spanked since he was all of six years old.
The hand came down again, on a different part of his ass, and he couldn’t stop the cry from that blow either.
“You bastard,” Al forced out through gritted teeth. “Why are you doing this? You want to get invaded?”
However, throughout his curses and cries, the other person never spoke, and the hand never slowed, leaving sharp pinches of fire everywhere it landed, until every single one of Al’s nerves were burning.
As time wore on, Al’s words became fewer and his cries a little more hoarse.
His ass was on fire and even worse, tears were in his eyes. He wanted to wipe away the proof of his demasculinisation, but as his hands were still tied, he had to be content on not letting them fall. He might tear up, that was a natural reaction. This person, however, was not going to make him cry.
Suddenly, the blows stopped. Al’s whole body sagged in relief, causing his shoulders to scream, although the heat of his poor tortured behind nearly drowned out the pain in his arms. Every one of his muscles tensed again, though, when he felt one of those hands slide up his spine, to his neck, and slid around to his face.
The hand was hot against his skin, and as red as his ass probably was, but it still felt soft as it traced his features like a blind man. His captor had beautiful hands.
“What… are you -” The hand slid over Al’s lips, stopping his words.
He gasped, the other person’s fingers curling into his open mouth as a second hand trailed up and over his abused skin, gently, almost lovingly. Al repressed the shiver that raised the hairs all down the back of his neck, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the blood from rushing south when the pad of the person’s finger pressed against his entrance.
It didn’t penetrate, but seemed content to merely stroke him softly, until the American was clenching his hands for a completely different reason, all the while chanting a soft mantra in his head. Americans don’t negotiate with terrorists. Americans don’t beg. Americans have the second largest nuclear stockpile in the world.
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